Her smoke sits on my skinAs I listen to her rant and ramble and smile.I’m safe.With this rum in my gut.

Sometimes I feel as if I’ve walked in And placed my mind on the windowsill.Distilled stomach acid. The bartender asks me what I’m havingAnd I reply,“Two shots on the rocks.”Tell me when I’ve had enough.

I’m safe here.Safe with this rum in my gut.And I’ve heard there’s safety in numbers.So the bottle’s almost done.Safe until I can’t remember.Safe until I wake up.